A couple friends and I were chatting the other night about relationships. One was in a long relationship, another’s just ended a month or so ago, and me going through all that I am. The one in the relationship is talking about how sometimes she wishes she was single and could have my freedom. My freedom? I can barely trust people enough to have a real talk with. Atleast a deep talk pertaining to myself. I don’t feel very free, I often feel trapped. The other, is in a period of just wanting to ‘hook-up’ with people. She’s ridiculously pretty, so there’s no lack of guys lining up (literally). I love her, she’s one of my closest friends. But, I’m not sure I could do that. I hooked up with a good friend of mine, and I felt better momentarily, but in the long run it makes things worse. I feel more miserable. So, I decided to stay away from that. I often look at guys and think it’s what I want, but if it came down to it, I doubt I’d be able to do it. Maybe I’m just trying so hard to hide things that maybe I’m even trying to convince myself now that I’m okay and ready to move on.
At times, I feel ready, like I just want some amazing guy to come save me and help heal my wounds. But, that’s what I thought he was. He came swooping in after an abusive relationship and tried to help me through stuff. How can I trust someone else? How can I even let someone in enough to let them cover my wounds?
I think one of the hardest things is knowing how intricate the lies were. I mean, who lies about having cancer? Who stages fake surgeries, fake 3-week comas, fake treatments, fakes being terminal? Who adds apps on their phone and makes up fake people as your ‘friends’? Who fakes lawsuits, fakes getting beat up in their cancer bed? My grandma essentially died from cancer, I see people around me suffering, I witness people battling their hardest. How do you just fake that, how is that even a thought? Cancer is absolutely horrible… How can someone pretend? How can someone be that messed up?
How did I never think to ask about any scars? I mean, I knew they were supposed to be through belly button or arm pit. But still, how did I never think about that? How did i never think about the little things that slipped through, all those little red flags that didn’t seem like red flags at the time.
I guess the question that haunts me the most, more than any of those, is how the heck did I fall for it? How did I now know? How did I not see it? It was year. I know your lies were intricate and ridiculously well-done. But, how did I not see through it? How did you fool my parents, brother, grandparents, pastors, mechanics? How could no one see through it? I know I shouldn’t be down on myself, and I try not to. But, I truly hate myself sometimes and just feel so stupid for not knowing… So many little signs that at the time seemed like nothing, yet looking back were all red flags. Did you prey on someone who just had too big of a heart? Because I know that my heart has always been too big and too trusting. I know that. It’s often a good thing, but it’s also a curse. I hate that I let you in, I hate that I loved you, I hate that I cared about you more than I cared about my life. I hate that I put myself last. I hate that I let myself suffer for you. I hate that I barely got any sleep. I hate that I let you ruin so many days and evenings, including during my trip to Europe. I hate that I put my friends on backburner. I hate that I put my faith on the backburner. I hate that I looked past the abuse, manipulation and all the crap. I hate that I believed you. I hate that I put you first, because I truly thought you needed me. You never needed me, you just took advantage of my heart, and that might be what I hate the most.
From the start, even when I met you, something felt off. Something just didn’t feel quite right about things. But, I put those thoughts and gut feelings aside because you needed someone to be there. You needed support and people to care. I kept trying to push you away at the beginning. I thrust you far, far away. You tracked me down, you were persistent. You wouldn’t leave me alone and continued to push and push until I gave in. I never should have given in. I should have trusted my gut feelings. But, as someone who always puts themself last, I did as I always did. I put myself and my own feelings, well-being, and all aside, so you could be supported and cared for. I put you first in everything. For a year. A year of my life, wasted on someone who was manipulating the whole thing…
I’ve gotten good at simply hiding things and suppressing things to where it barely even hurts in my daily life. How messed up is that? The hurt, confusion and pain is so deep that I have gotten so good at just pretending it never happened and doesn’t affect me. It’s almost just become part of me, to hide things. Most people don’t even know it happened, most people don’t know that deep down, I’m suffering. Everyday. I’m fairly good at keeping the thoughts away, but that’s until I see a name that makes me think of it all. Or, I see a car like yours. In those little moments, I stop breathing. My chest gets tight, but it only lasts a moment, because I know I need to pull things together and be okay. I need to be okay.
It just really sucks not knowing why. I think that might be the worst thing of all. I don’t, and doubt I ever will, know why you did it. WHY? Why did you do it? Do you miss me? Or was I just some fun little game. I know you’re messed up, but still. Why? That question haunts me. Everyone always asks me, but the answer you gave me was bullshit. I want answers, I wanna know why you did all those little things. I wanna know why you said all those things. I wanna know why. That’s all I want. I don’t even know if you think about me. I don’t even know if you miss me. And that sucks. I know I told you to never talk to me again, and I did mean it, and it probably is for the better. But, part of me secretly wishes that you would try to talk to me. That you would message me and I would have to ignore you. Or that I’d reply and my mom would give me heck. But atleast if you messaged me, I’d know that atleast I’d have crossed your mind, that you’d have thought about me. Cause I don’t even know if you do. After all you put me through, I don’t even know if I still exist in your world. And that’s torture. Knowing that you put me through hell, and may just be a speck in your past now. I mean, it’s 2 months to the day today. It still haunts me, but I don’t even know if it even crosses your mind. And that sucks. A lot.
I know you’re not worth it, I know that. And I don’t want you back, I truly don’t. Because I know how horrible of a person you are. I know how deeply messed up you are. I know how much you need serious, professional help. I doubt you’ll ever get it, but I know that you need it. I just hate how bad you have messed me up. I hate how you’ve ruined me. How you’ve ruined my ability to trust and believe people, my ability to love and to let people in. You’ve ruined so much of what made me, me. And I hate that you could have such an extensive web of lies and you never felt bad about it. Especially when our friendship began due to someone else’s web of lies. Wow, I’ve never realized that before. But, it’s true. It really does kill me how you could mess my life up with all your lies and deceptions, and not even feel bad at all…